Chapter 7
Angel held her breath in ecstasy. She felt herself engulfed by the soft-hot wetness of his mouth. She felt his nose press hard against the center of her pleasure and felt his hard tongue point and thrust into the yielding heat of her cunt and she blew sky high. She felt it begin way back and tried to hold it. The effort served only to intensify the pleasure as she held her breath and then, as it became inevitable, breathed out in a long, sensuous moan of bliss and heaved under his wild ministrations. She felt, for one joyous moment, that he was going to devour her. She'd never been so completely taken, so wantonly thrilled. She let the good, hard, blasting climax send her into convulsions of delight, causing her loins to churn and writhe as she forced herself up into the lusting kiss.
He felt her go. He knew she was being lifted and he took great pleasure in doing it to her. He closed his lips around the hard little core of her, bit her tenderly with his teeth and listened as she moaned out her joy. Then, as she peaked, he thrust his tongue far, far and felt the inner throbs of her bliss.
He left her, pulling himself away as she relaxed, but not before making soft little after movements into his kiss to savor the last iota of goodness. She sighed.
"Sorry about that," she giggled. "It's your fault, though. Whee!"
Joe licked his lips, tasting her passion. He stripped away his trunks and revealed himself, all man, huge. He pulled himself to her, knelt over her, bent up into a fetal position, his knees on either side of her along her sides. His awareness was thus pressed, from base to tip, into the soft, yielding surface of her stomach. He kissed her mouth and she tasted the strange, not unpleasant residue of her passion. He trembled. He held her there, wrapped around her, his weight partially on her, mostly supported by his elbows, kissing her gently, savoring the goodness of her lax mouth.
But the goodness of her release stayed with her. She would give herself to him, but she felt no quick return of the grand passion, the hard, good lust she'd felt before. She answered his soft kisses, her body motionless under his, feeling the great, hard length of his need against her stomach.
He held his position, kneeling over her, pressing his prick into her soft stomach, for a long time. Then he moved. She expected him to enter her, then. Instead, he turned her, putting his big hands under her body to lift her effortlessly onto her stomach and then he kissed her back. He started with her shoulders and her neck, breathing with great need as he brushed his lips over her skin, teased her with his tongue. He lowered his weight on her and, for the first time, pressed the lubricated roundness of his prick into the area of her pussy, from the rear, not penetration, just a touch. Then even that was gone as he kissed his way down her back to her bulging hips, paying tribute to the tender little spot at the base of her spine, the soft little valley which indented just above the bulge of her rump.
She felt little tingles of interest.
He opened her legs. His tongue smoothed the inner softness of her thighs, reached into that area of sensitivity which had, suddenly, come back to life. She lifted her pelvic area from the bed to give him access, wanting him to turn her over, repeat the wonderful love he'd give her before.
That was not his plan. He turned her over and she automatically opened her legs for him, but he knelt over her instead and thrust his hardened cock into her lips. For a moment, her mouth remained closed. It was hot and soft-hard and slicked by his passion. Then, with a sigh, she spread her lips wide, opening her mouth to take him with jaw-stretching thorougliness. The position was awkward. She disengaged, pushing on him, her hands small against his muscular body. He lay on his back and she went down, down, taking the already familiar prick, driving herself to please him. But she was pleasing herself, too, for the erotic deed sent big thrills through her body, finished the reawakening process.
She took all she could, feeling the strange, almost gagging sensation of pressure far at the back of her mouth. She made her mouth a tube of suction and moved her head, making little sounds. She let her lips part wetly, softly and moved them the length of him, teased and kissed until, her need as great as it had ever been, she became the driver and, quickly, surely, knelt over him, positioning herself with one hand on his engine of lust, feeling it first big and hard in her small hand and then pointing into the depths of her as she lowered herself impalingly on him, taking all in one swift, complete motion which was so pleasurable as to be near pain. He was big and her position made him more effective. Her weight forced her down, down, until her entire stomach cavity seemed to be filled with man. She leaned far back, bending him, feeling him vividly alive inside. She swept her hips in tiny, wild circles and moaned her joy as he thrust into her swiveling, a lust full, big, filling, up and down stroking. He put his hands on her hips, accented by her kneeling position. He used her hips as handles to lift her and push her down until she thought he was going to penetrate all of her body and then he was near, gasping, lunging. She let him go, felt the big thrust, the quick splashing and spoutings and then she let her own joy come, immediately following his, laughing, crying with the bigness of it.
When it ended, all too soon, she fell atop him, exhausted. He pulled one of her legs up, pushed her down on his slowly relaxing prick, keeping the penetration and kissed her lightly on the cheek. She slept.
When she awoke, she smelled bacon and eggs. It was one of the world's finest smells, she decided, although it wasn't breakfast time. In fact, there was a dimness in the room which denoted early evening. She'd slept for hours. She lay there drowsily, watching Joe, in his swim trunk again, moving around the small cooking area. When he called out to her she answered in a soft little moan of sleepiness.
"Up and at 'em, lazy," he said, turning to grin at her. He had such a nice face, she decided. He was not handsome, really, but he was manly. He had a regularity of feature which made his face look friendly and nice.
"Ummm," she said, stretching, letting the spread, which had been pulled up to cover her nude body, fall away to expose her breasts. "Do I have to?"
"You expect maybe that I'm going to feed you in bed?"
"Why not?"
"I'll tell you why not," he said, turning back to his skillet. "If I get close to you and that bed with you looking like that the food will get cold, and I'm hungry. Now get up."
His tee-shirt was lying beside the bed. She rolled onto her stomach and got it. She sat up in bed, pulled the shirt over her torso and got up. She freshened up in the bath with a quick face rinse. She used his comb to flip her hair into some semblance of tidiness. Then she had to do other cleanup chores. The spoils of their mutual passion were sticky on the softness of her thighs.
He had eggs and bacon ready. There was coffee, so strong she could almost chew it, but good. There was a snack bar with two stools. She sat on one stool, the short shirt pulled up around her thighs.
"I figure maybe we make the scene on the beach for a while," Joe said. "Then back here for a beer or two?"
She was sorry he'd mentioned anything pertaining to the future. She'd been trying to get by with present time, only. She didn't want to think of having to leave him. She didn't want to have to think of the afternoon, with the horror of being caught in the midst of that mob. However, he'd brought it up and it was getting late.
"My friends will be worried about me," she said.
"Look," Joe said, "I don't want to sound nasty, but it was your friends who got you into the middle of that bit this afternoon."
"I know."
"So let 'em worry."
"I can't do that," she said. "Stanley . . . "
"That's the blonde?"
"Yes. I came with her. You see, my father thinks Stanley and I are in Jacksonville with her parents."
"So you can't ditch Stanley," Joe said.
"No. Not if I wanted to, Joe."
"O.K., " he growled. "But that doesn't mean we can't see each other."
"Of course not."
"No claims on you, then?" Joe asked, taking around a big bit of eggs and toast, but showing concern with a wrinkled brow.
"No," she said.
"That big guy . . . "
"Just some boys we met. I hardly know them."
Joe was silent. Hell, for that matter she hardly knew him. But that sort of thinking was bad for the ego. Besides, she was just a girl. She was a beautiful, sexy girl, but just a girl he'd met on the Easter weekend. When they both went back to their respective schools they would probably never see each other again. He looked at her. That, he decided calmly and rationally, would be a shame, for she was some chick.
"Well, we can go find your blonde friend . . . "
"I think I'd better go alone, Joe," she said. She suddenly remembered Stanley's strange behavior. That morning she would have sworn that Stanley looked at her with undisguised hate. Perhaps it was just disgust, she told herself, disgust at the way I acted the night before, getting so bombed out of my mind that I didn't know what I was doing. I know I got laid, she thought, because I was sore as hell, but how and where I got laid I don't know, so perhaps I did it in a disgusting, open way which shocked Stanley.
But, hell, Stanley was no virgin. At least she didn't talk like a virgin. And she was sure quick to let herself be picked up by Alan Govern.
Alan. And Carl. They'd been so strangely insistent that she go with them to the Vietnik demonstration in the town square. And then she'd been separated from them so easily, almost as if . . . No. Of course not. Just because Joe found her and got her out of the crush of people didn't mean that Carl didn't even try.
"Why so serious?" Joe asked, wiping his face on a paper towel.
"Just thinking."
"Well?"
'I'll have to go find Stanley."
"Yes, you said that I'll go with you. I said that too."
"I know, but I'd better go alone. Stanley is, well, she's sort of strange."
"You're acting as if she's your lover or something."
Angel giggled. "Oh, no. Stanley--likes boys and after this afternoon, you shouldn't have any doubts about me, Joe."
He grinned. "No."
"It's just that I came with her. My story to cover this long weekend depends on her and I wouldn't hurt my father for anything. I suppose I'm hurting him without his knowing it by deceiving him, but he doesn't know it and it's all rightOh, hell. You know what I mean."
"Sure. There comes a time when you have to find your own thing," Joe said.
"So I'll have to go. Maybe we can meet tomorrow?"
"Maybe I won't even let you leave," Joe said, coming to stand beside her, putting his big arm around her, his hand closing familiarly on her left breast. A series of thrills shot out from his touch. Never before had a boy so casually felt of her breast and never before had it done so much for her.
"Joe," she whispered, "I don't know what kind of girl you thing I am"
"I think you're the kissing kind of girl," he said, trying to suit actions to words.
She avoided his mouth. "No, please, let me say it. I'm not a whore. You know I wasn't a virgin, but I'm not bad. I've known boys . . . not many . . . "
"Hey, don't knock yourself out. I've screwed a few girls. Everybody's doing it." He grinned at her.
"But I've never known one who turns me on the way you do," she whispered. "I'm not promiscuous, but I don't really care if you think I am when I ask you to make love to me again before I go."
"Glad to oblige," he said, lifting her from the stool. This time he tasted of bacon and eggs but she didn't care. So did she. "How?" he whispered, holding her easily.
"All the way, Joe? like this afternoon?"
"All the way, baby."
"Make me tingle, Joe. Make me want it. Make me beg for it."
"You're on," he whispered. He walked quickly to the bed, put her down, stripped away his trunks quickly. He pushed her down, the tee-shirt still on her torso, her legs cocked with her feet at the very edge of the bed. He knelt on the floor and put his face into the already creaming pelvic pocket and her joy began. "Ah, Joe," she moaned. "Ah, baby!"